


Secret kisses (and other things)

by sonotadream



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Era, First Time, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonotadream/pseuds/sonotadream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Kink_meme: The first time they make out, Grantaire can't help but get an erection. He's mortified and terrified Enjolras is going to dump his perverted ass. Enjolras is just confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret kisses (and other things)

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt can be found here, along with another delicious fill: http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/11667.html?thread=1497747#t1497747  
>    
> It's not exactly the first time they kiss, just the first time it gets serious. And Enjolras confusion doesn't last long. Other than that, please enjoy :)

Grantaire sometimes thinks he should say something and put a stop to it. Explain to Enjolras why what he's doing is wrong, why he shouldn't be cavorting with the likes of Grantaire.

He never manages to. He loses his nerve and he can't find the right words. When was he ever able to convince Enjolras of anything?

When was he ever wanted to?

So, it keeps happening. 

And maybe it is a particularly vivid dream or fantasy, brought on by the absinthe. Only he hasn't touched the stuff in weeks. Ever since Enjolras kissed him, in fact. 

And it can’t have been a fluke or a mistake, because he continues to do it. Enjolras will kiss him when they're alone, very chastely. The kisses are accompanied by light, discreet touches and caresses, soft words, things Grantaire craved like he had never craved anything else.

And, maybe it's all happening because Enjolras stumbled on a method to keep Grantaire sort of quiet and sort of sober. Who cares? Grantaire is sort of happy, which is as close to happy as we can remember being, and he's going to enjoy himself. Either until the fantasy ends or he fucks up.

Which could be happening tonight.

Enjolras had invited Grantaire to go home with him after the meeting. Grantaire had said yes, because... What was he going to do, say no? They went to Enjolras' rooms, arms linked, Enjolras arguing they needed the support of the stonemasons at the Barrière du Maine, asking for Grantaire’s input since he knew some of them. Grantaire tried to be positive (or, more accurately, not too negative), and to not over reach in his offer to help.

After all, he wants to stay in Enjolras good graces more than anything else.

Still, it was only after Enjolras closed the door that Grantaire realized he hadn't been invited to talk. Enjolras stood in front of him, smiling, and had gone from saying, "You make some good points," to putting his arms around Grantaire's neck and kissing him.

He doesn’t mind – he much prefers to use his tongue for kissing rather than political debate.

Enjolras keeps kissing him and it’s different from all the other kisses. They’re alone, in private quarters, not in the Musain, where anyone could walk in. Enjolras is bolder, pressed against Grantaire, interweaving his fingers in Grantaire’s curls.

The kiss is not very chaste. Really, there is tongue.

Which shouldn't be such a big deal, considering Grantaire had done a lot more than kissing with a considerable number of people. But Enjolras hadn't. He had said so himself, shortly after the first time. 

Therefore, it must be a big deal for Enjolras. 

Enjolras pushes Grantaire towards the bed, coats and shoes come off and they end up lying on their sides, facing each other, touching each other.

Grantaire starts to relax. Kissing is easy. Resting his hand on Enjolras' waist is easy. Feeling Enjolras' fingers tangled in his hair even easier. Everything is going well, until Grantaire notices a certain change in his anatomy.

"No, no, no. Not this," Grantaire thinks. He's getting an erection and Enjolras is lying right there.

It's possibly the most embarrassing moment of his life. He can only hope Enjolras doesn't notice anything.

“Go away, please, go away,” he chants in his head. He tries to think about anything else, but it’s impossible, not with Enjolras right beside him, breathing in his mouth, biting lightly at his lip (where did he learn that?), sighing contentedly. The problem only gets worse.

Grantaire tries to scoop back a little, roll his hips away, but that causes Enjolras to tighten the grip on his head and follow him. Enjolras thigh brushes against his groin and Grantaire tenses.

Just his luck, Enjolras notices right away.

"Grantaire? What's wrong?" He asks, puzzled.

"N-Nothing." Grantaire tries to resume the kiss, but Enjolras pulls back. His leg hitches up and, god, he notices. "Please ignore that. Please..." Grantaire lacks the guts to stare at Enjolras. He fixes his eyes in the other man’s chest and waits to be pushed away in disgust.

Instead, Enjolras tilts his chin up. "Ignore what?" He sounds curious, not angry. Grantaire has no idea how to respond.

"Um, that. You know. Um, it's nothing," he's babbling and it feels pathetic.

"It doesn't feel like nothing." Enjolras moves his leg again. Grantaire blushes.

"What are you doing?"

Enjolras ignores that. "In fact, it feels like a perfectly normal physiological response," Enjolras rubs his thigh against Grantaire, deliberately slow this time, "and I don't see what you're so worried about."

"Yes, but you're not," Grantaire's eyes flicker downward, to Enjolras. There's nothing there, as far as he can tell, "not..." 

Grantaire manages to look at Enjolras' face. He's not disgusted and Grantaire is blushing like a virginal maiden. Okay, then.

"May I?" Grantaire nods before he realizes what he's agreeing to. Enjolras finally moves a little away, but he doesn't go anywhere. 

He shifts position, so he rests more comfortably. He presses his hand against Grantaire's erection, making him gasp. Satisfied with that reaction, he starts to open his trousers and then pulls Grantaire's cock out. Enjolras brushes his fingers along the entire length of it.

Grantaire looks up at him. Enjolras looks back and, slowly and deliberately, licks his hand. Grantaire feels his cock twitch.

Somehow, Enjolras can tell. Why else would he grin like that, a bit smug, a bit wicked?

He wraps his hand around Grantaire's cock and starts jerking him. Grantaire moans and closes his eyes, trying to memorize every sensation. Enjolras presses their foreheads. "Is this all right? How do you like it?" he increases the pace, fists his hand a little more. "Tell me," he whispers against Grantaire's ear.

Grantaire feels too overwhelmed to answer. Enjolras' touch is maddening, almost too much and not nearly enough at once. Grantaire clings to him, hides his face on the crook of his neck, tangles his hand on his soft hair and comes far too quickly. 

Embarrassingly quick, but Enjolras holds him anyway. He even finds a cloth somewhere to clean them up.

Enjolras trails kisses on Grantaire's temple, his nose, his jaw. He reclines back on the bed and Grantaire curls up by his side. He moves on top of Enjolras a few moments later

"Do you want me to? I mean, can I?" Enjolras stops him talking with a brief kiss. Grantaire takes that as assent.

He sits back, so he's straddling Enjolras' legs. He hesitates for an instant, but a raised eyebrow encourages him and he opens Enjolras' pants. He's half hard, which Grantaire's takes as a sign it's okay to continue.

He hesitates again. His own hand looks rough and calloused next to Enjolras' far too elegant cock (and now it's not the time to wax poetically about the other man's member, but, if Grantaire were a poet, he would).

Enjolras deserves something much nicer, he thinks.

He lowers himself and wraps his lips around the head.

"Grantaire, what are you..." He sucks and Enjolras' question dissolves into a moan. Grantaire sucks again and glances up at Enjolras. His biting his lower lip, eyes closed, hands grabbing the sheets.

Grantaire wants to grin at the sight, the thought he's causing this. He feels Enjolras cock growing and starts to move down. He bobs up and down along the shaft a few times, relishing the effect it has in Enjolras, the sounds he makes, the way he tries to still his hips. Grantaire pins them down, figuring Enjolras should be enjoying himself, not worrying about hurting him.

He explores as much as he can. There's the soft "Ahh" from when he licks down the base and at Enjolras' balls; the short "Ohh" from sucking at the tip; the "Fuck, I'm go--" just before he comes down Grantaire's throat.

Grantaire makes sure he swallows everything and doesn't let go before Enjolras stops trembling. He's a bit sorry to let go of Enjolras' cock; honestly, he's still afraid nothing of this is real or will be happening again. He wants to take in as much as he can.

Enjolras is breathing hard, panting, and staring at Grantaire with heavy lidded eyes. He feels a little smug at that, likely not that different from what Enjolras had felt earlier, when Grantaire was the one falling apart. 

Enjolras extends a hand and pulls Grantaire towards him, flips them and pins him down with a deep kiss. It's far too short, Enjolras is still breathless, but he presses their bodies together and asks, "What was that?"

Grantaire chuckles softly. "It's called a blowjob," he pushes up to lay a quick kiss in Enjolras' lips, feeling for the first time, that it is absolutely the right thing to do. "What, never heard of it?" Enjolras is staring at him and his nerves start to flare up. It's the same intense look Enjolras used only for him, before this started, and, although he had lately been feeling like maybe Enjolras wasn't judging him as harshly as he imagined, he can help but feel nervous all the same.

Enjolras speaks, at last, "Yes, I have read about it." Enjolras lies down and pulls Grantaire to his side, restoring their original positions. "I never realized it was something men actually did." Grantaire raises his eyebrows. He's surprised Enjolras has read philosophical novels, but also at his naiveté. He clamps down the feeling of shame at being the one to show him different; Enjolras is a grow man, if he didn't want Grantaire in his bed, Grantaire wouldn't be here. Or so he tells himself.

Enjolras must sense something is up, because he caress Grantaire's cheek and softly says, "What, no teasing about how little I know of these things?"

Grantaire smiles back. He can't help it; he never imagined Enjolras presence could be so comforting. "I could tease you," he leans for a kiss, "but I rather show you."


End file.
